


Waiting For You

by clarissa_writes



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - 1940s, Angst, Do not copy on another site, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Pre-World War II Bucky Barnes, Sexual Content, i posted it on tumblr tho, its gonna hurt, like ouch
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-26
Updated: 2019-11-26
Packaged: 2021-02-26 02:55:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,051
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21556609
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/clarissa_writes/pseuds/clarissa_writes
Summary: Brooklyn’s Casanova, Bucky Barnes, falls in love with Steve’s art partner.
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Reader
Comments: 11
Kudos: 169





	Waiting For You

**Author's Note:**

> Based on the headcanon I wrote: Dating Pre-War Bucky Barnes

Bucky Barnes, by all means, was not a romantic.

Sure, he had the charm, the looks and the right words to woo a dame but he was not the kind of person who really believed in love. Lust however, was as real as the skin on his bones. 

That’s not to say he was an asshole. He liked to flirt, sure, but he never led any of his partners on. It was a simple exchange, really. They got what they wanted from him, whether it was the attention or the sex and then they moved on. It was a mutual exchange. So honestly, he wasn’t really sure why people like Steve claimed he had a line of broken hearts he left behind. It’s not as if they didn’t know of his reputation as the neighborhood’s Casanova. It’s not as if he promised them a future together, either.

That being said, it shouldn't come as a surprise to say he certainly didn’t believe in love at first sight. The whole _the-world-disappears-when-you-see-her_ or _you-stop-breathing-with-your-heart-pounding-fast-in-your-chest_ kind of nonsense. It takes an enormous amount of control not to roll his eyes when he sees romance films at the pictures with his date sighing out in a swoon at the kiss the lovers would share. _It’s all a bunch’a baloney,_ he’d think.

To be so in love with someone you didn’t even know existed a minute ago. 

To get all soft and love sick after one glance.

And yet, there he was.

Looking awestruck with wide eyes and flushed cheeks, stands the romance skeptic Bucky Barnes half-way into falling in love. 

And at first sight.

Steve had been taking art classes recently. Classes that took maybe three or four hours a day. And today was no different, only that it was Rebecca’s birthday and Steve had to help set up decorations around the Barnes household. So to make sure his little runt of a pal didnt get into any trouble, Bucky was going to go and pick him up. God knows how many times Steve got sidetracked with a fight in an alley somewhere. 

He was waiting by the gate where the main entrance was when he caught sight of the blonde hurrying past the ladies exiting at the same time. Bucky couldn’t withhold the smirk when he realized Steve was just an inch or two shorter than everyone else.

“Took you long enough.”  
  
He huffed, slinging an arm around Steve’s neck,

“Ma won’t be happy if you show up late.”

Steve was about to respond, and from the looks of it, was about to sass him when suddenly someone had shouted his name.

“Steve!”

Both boys startled, quickly turning around to find just who had screamed out Steve’s name and find why exactly she sounded so urgent. A tease was on the tip of Bucky’s tongue because the voice obviously belonged to a girl, a sweet sounding girl if he had to judge from the voice alone, but found himself at a loss for words when his gaze fell onto you.

It was instantaneous. 

Like someone had whacked him in the back of his head with a baseball bat.

It was so instantaneous he could almost hear Becca laugh at him for all those times he’d bad-mouthed romance films and how quickly love progresses in them. For how he had claimed it was stupid to fall in love so quickly.

Bucky knew right then and there he was gone on you.

All it took was your pretty lips, wide, doe eyes, and flushed cheeks to hook him in.

The thing was, you didn’t even care he was standing there. No, you were far too focused on Steve to even take a glance at him. It might’ve made him feel a little jealous if he couldn’t differentiate the way you looked at Steve fondly- like a younger brother kind of fond. Now all he had to worry about was whether or not Steve was sweet on you.

“Oh thank God I caught up,”  
  
You panted, smiling despite the fact you were out of breath,

“You forgot this.”  
  
You offered up a single piece of paper in front of him. You couldn't hold back the grin when you saw Steve’s blue eyes light up with realization. Steve had forgotten to take his portrait of you in class. As partners, you had to draw each other for an assignment. Steve groaned, taking the sheet from you and offering you sheepish, grateful smile.

“Oh Geez, (Y/n) I didn’t notice I left it behind. I’m sorry you had to come out here to catch up to us-”

“Well I’m not.”  
  
Both you and Steve turn to look at Bucky. He still hasn’t wiped off that dumbstruck look on his face. Steve would always make fun of him for that in the future. And then, as if he gathered his wits a second later, red began to creep up his neck until a nice flush dusted over his cheeks.

Bucky ducked his head, clearing his throat and rubbed the back of his neck,

“I uh, said that out loud, didn’t I?”

* * *

Bucky was nothing if not determined.

He’d tried to get your name, tried to woo you with his usual lines and charm, but nothing worked. You were immune. You simply blinked at him, frowned and returned your attention to Steve. For the first time in his life, Bucky wanted nothing more than to tell Steve to kindly _go away_ because clearly, you were far more interested in his best friend than you were with him. 

Bucky was confident, he knew what he wanted and he chased after it. But this was the first time he felt that confidence waver.

“Come on, Stevie. Gimme something. Her name! Her last name! Aw hell, her favorite color? Sports team? Does a girl like that even like sports-”

“She loves the Dodgers.”

Steve doesn't even look up from the sketch he was working on as he answered.

“M’ gonna marry that girl, Steve.”

This time Steve does look up with a start,

“Buck-”

“Gonna marry the absolute hell outta her.”

* * *

It takes another week and a half of moping, begging and whining- that’s right, _whining_ \- until Steve finally gives in and tells Bucky your name.

He regretted it an hour later when Bucky followed him to art class.

* * *

“You know what the real art is, (y/n)? You-”

“Barnes, you don’t even go here.”

* * *

You thought that would be the end of it, but oh boy were you wrong.

The onslaught of pick up lines had only just started.

Steve had been victim to being the practice buddy, and he had to say, he genuinely felt sorry for you.

The worst one he heard was:

_Roses are red, my name is Bucky, will you do me the honor and let me get lucky?_

Steve had thrown his eraser at him, but Bucky just barely managed to dodge it with a surprised yelp.

“It’s a joke, Steve. Gal’s like a guy with a sense of humor.”

“Right. That’s why she stood there and stared at you for a solid five minutes.”

* * *

You had to hand it to him, Bucky Barnes was a persistent man.

He hadn’t stopped trying to impress you. Every time there’s class, he would arrive with Steve with a single flower without fail. And yes, while the flower was a little uhm... dead, and uh, wilting, the sentiment was sweet and you had to appreciate the fact Bucky was trying in the first place.

Steve had apologized for his best friend’s stupidity countless times and you have to admit you smiled fondly when Bucky smacked Steve on the back of his head when he first said that.

The two were obviously good friends like the rumors said, but you just didnt understand why Bucky Barnes of all people was wasting his time on you. You weren’t blind to the rumors and the whispering between classes. Practically everyone knew who Bucky Barnes was in this neighborhood. 

He was the very sought after bachelor that all girls wanted to take dancing and you also knew he wasnt very keen on the whole _commitment_ thing.Your friends had babbled on and on about how attractive he was, and up until now, you never really cared or noticed.

Well, _okay,_ you noticed how attractive he was, but you never really cared all that much.

So when he kept coming back rejection after rejection, you really couldn't put a finger on it. You hardly spoke to him, and when you did, it was you telling him to leave you alone and that you didn't want to step out with him.

You were very clear on the fact you didn’t just “go out” for fun.

When or if you ever were to step out with someone, it would be because you genuinely liked that person and wanted to make it work. You didn’t want to go out only for it to be a one and done thing.

You and Bucky had very different views in the romance department so you couldnt see how this could ever work out. You didn't want to be another notch in his belt. You refused to allow yourself to fall for his charms only to be discarded the next day with Bucky going after someone else. 

“Come on, Doll. Please? I know you hear all that stuff ‘bout me round the streets, but I swear it ain’t like that. Not this time. Not with you.”  
  
He took your hand in his, giving it a gentle squeeze,

“Please, Darlin’? I promise you I’m not playin’ no games or nothin’.”

Hesitantly, you finally agree.

* * *

He takes you dancing.

And you’re afraid to admit you loved it.

He was an absolute gentleman, and despite your initial worries about it being a one-time thing, he had asked you out for a second date within the first ten minutes.

You had laughed a lot, danced, and when you both got tired and your feet ached, you two went to the beach and just sat on the rocks under the stars. It was chilly, and though you loved watching the waves crash into shore, you weren’t sure how much longer you would’ve been able to take. It wasn’t until you felt the warmth of Bucky’s jacket slipping around your shoulders that you began to get comfortable. 

Neither of you spoke, but it wasn't uncomfortable. The silence was almost welcoming. 

Carefully, Bucky slid his hand over yours. You’d flinched and your head snapped in the direction of where his hand laid over yours and looked up to him. Bucky avoided your gaze, staring straight at the sea where waves had been crashing along the shore, but you see the blush even in the dark.

Biting your lip, you wordlessly turn back to the ocean.

You turned your hand so he could hold yours properly. 

You’d never know it, but Bucky had spent most of the time staring at you and thanking God and all things holy that finally, you agreed to go on a date with him.

He could only hope he changed your mind about him.

He walked you home.

You held hands the entire time.

* * *

You become official.

Well, as official as you can be with only three dates in. Nevertheless, it was a wonderful three dates. It was so wonderful that on the night of the fourth date, you take the first step into a real relationship.

Bucky was walking you home, your hand in his, when he stopped right outside your door. He ran his thumb over your knuckles and stared at your linked hands before he began to speak,

“I’m real serious bout you, _____. I never felt this way before, and God knows how bad I want us to work. I’m in it for the long run, Doll. I want to be your fella- your man, and I want you to be my best girl. I want everyone in Brooklyn to know that I’m yours just as much as you’re mine. I ain’t too good with words, but I really think I’m fallin’ for ya-”

You cut his rambling off by pressing your lips to his.

You felt him smile, but he didn't try to pull away until he spent a good minute kissing you. He pauses for a moment, stares deep into your eyes, before pressing a softer, more chaste kiss to your lips. Your hands had wandered to his neck, pulling him closer as you struggled to get on your tippy toes. His firm, large hands held you by the hip until there was no space between you.

Then he’s pressing his forehead against yours as you played with the soft tendrils of his hair. The heat in your stomach had spread throughout your body. You felt exhilarated. You felt your nerves set alight with every brush of his lips against yours. 

It was like all the pieces were finally snapping together.

Bucky lets out a breathy laugh, lifting a hand to caress the side of your face. You nuzzled into his touch, shutting your eyes for a brief moment only to open them to his grin,

“I think I just died and went to heaven.”

The smile on his face was infectious because you found yourself mirroring it. You could no longer deny that you were well on your way in falling in love with him. But you couldn’t find it in yourself to care.

“Because darlin, those sweet red lips of yours just put me in my grave and I couldn’t have gone a better way”.

* * *

You meet Bucky’s family only a month later.

To say Bucky was ecstatic that his family loved you was an understatement. He was practically vibrating with his joy on your way home. The man was whistling, a skip in his step as he pulled you into the quiet streets and twirled you around. Your laugh was obnoxious, but Bucky swore up and down that he heard nothing prettier than your laugh. You knew if anyone saw you dancing in the streets at night, they’d call you crazy, but Bucky didnt care.

He simply held you closer, kissing your cheek as he hummed a tune to himself and spun you again,

“I’m afraid it’s a done deal now, doll. It’s gonna be me an’ you til the end of the line.”

You grinned,

“I’m telling Steve you said that.”  
  


* * *

Let it be known that out of everyone you knew, Steve was your biggest supporter.

That being said, Steve was at the point where he wasn’t sure if his name was Steve or if its actually (y/n) because the boy _just won’t stop talking about you_. 

Steve was working on a commission for an Ad when Bucky waltzed into the room and sighed,

“Did you know (y/n) is allergic to this? Did you know she likes that? Hey, did (y/n) ever tell you-”

“Yes, Buck. I know she’s allergic to this. I know she likes that. No she hasn’t told me about that but _you did_. Six times. _Yesterday_.”

* * *

Your first time being _intimate_ was both what you expected, but also different. 

Bucky dipped his head low, catching your gasp into his mouth as he gripped your thighs tighter in his hands. He moaned, biting your lip as a hand wandered between your legs and cupped your slick mound, 

“You're so wet for me,”

He groaned, pressing down on your pussy with the heel of his hand. You were helpless to his touch, preening under his lustful gaze as your nipples hardened. Bucky was so attentive to your pleasure. He spent thirty minutes lavishing your body with wet kisses before he even unbuckled his belt. And now, with you naked and Bucky _finally_ stripping himself of his clothing, you bit your lip at the sight of his cock.

You knew he was packing. With the numerous amount of grinding against his lap when things got too heated too quickly, you were well aware your lover was _gifted_ in that department. But still, you couldn’t lie and say you weren’t intimidated.

Arching your back, you moaned louder when his wet, hot mouth closed around your clit. He sucked, licked and showered your bundle of nerves with his talented mouth, seemingly eager to hear your pleasured sounds fall to his ears. 

Bucky was aching.

He was grinding into the mattress as he tasted you- lips wet with your arousal but _fuck_ , was this hot. Your quivering thighs, hands clutching onto his hair, it was all too much but also too little.

Bucky was harder than he’s ever been in his whole life.

And then he’s sinking into you, and _fuck_ was it everything he imagined and more. Bucky moaned, pulling his hips back before slamming back home. The gasp that his hips elicited from you made shivers run down his spine,

“Fuck, babydoll. You’re so pretty, takin’ me like that. So fuckin’ pretty.”

You’re babbling, gripping onto his biceps as he began to rut into you with wild abandon. You’re delirious with pleasure, eyes rolling back as your head lolled to the side. Your walls clamped down on him, urging him to release, but Bucky holds on tight.

His grip on your hips is almost bruising, but you found that you liked that. You liked how easily he could mark you up. That he had the power to bend you to his will. 

“Oh Bucky- fuck, baby, feels so good.”  
  
You moved your hips with his, grinding into his pelvis thrust after thrust. You could feel your peak within your reach. The coil in your stomach wound up so tight you knew all it would take was a few more thrusts. It seems as though Bucky could feel your impending release, because next thing you know he’s spearing into you _harder, faster,_ fucking _rougher_ than he did before.  
  


“One more time, babydoll. Give me one more-”  
  
And you did.

You came, squeezing him so tight that he fell over you, managing to catch himself with his forearm as he spilled into the condom. Bucky rolls to his side a moment later, reaching over to grasp your waist so he could pull you over his chest. 

He angles your face toward his so he could drop one last kiss,

“I love you.”

He whispers. His blue eyes are clear, _honest_ , and so you smile, press a kiss to his sweat slicked chest and sighed out,

_“I love you.”_

* * *

It was inevitable.

Standing at the platform as men in uniform said goodbyes to their families, you tried to be strong for Bucky. You tried to hold yourself together, at least for him, and smiled through it all. You watched as the love of your life kissed his ma goodbye and shared a hard hug with his father. And then he was kissing his little sister, Rebecca on the forehead and clapping Steve on the back after a brief hug, telling him to _watch over _____ and my family_ _for me_.

Then it was your turn.

You told yourself you wouldn’t do this.

That you wouldn’t cry.

But then he’s giving you _that smile_.

The smile that says _I love you so much it hurts._

The smile that says _God, I wish I could stay behind with you._

The smile that says the painfully honest _I’m not sure if I’ll come back but you better believe I’ll try every thing I can to make sure I do._

And then he hugs you, and you pretend you don’t feel him shaking, and you whisper so tenderly in his ear that _I’ll wait for you, solider_ with the ring he had given you the night before around your ring finger under your glove because you both decided not to tell anyone just yet.

And then he kisses you.

And God, does he kiss you.

A kiss so heated but still not enough.

And then he gets on the train.

And suddenly, your fiancé is on his way to war and neither of you know when he’s coming back. You don’t say _if_ , because you refuse to believe there’s a possibility he won't go home to you. Because you can’t handle the chance you won’t see those pretty blue eyes of his again.

So you go home that night, sleep in his bed and clutch his pillow close to your chest.

If you focused hard enough, you think you could catch his scent.

* * *

Soon after you send letters.

Each time you get one back, you keep those letters safe in a box. It’s become your prized possession. Life goes on, but you always have your solider on the back of your mind. You discussed starting a family when he gets back from war.

You start saving up for a nursery.

* * *

Steve joins the army.

* * *

Captain America was created.

* * *

You still send letters.

Bucky stops replying after the fifth one.

* * *

Captain America dies in a plane crash.

* * *

It’s a rainy day when you open the door to Peggy Carter with a box of Bucky’s things-letters he’d written but never got to send and all it takes was that mask of a blank look on her face for you to know.

Neither of you say anything for a few seconds. You simply stare each other as widows, but not having the honor to marry the men you both desperately loved. She’s ready to say something but the gleam of your ring catches her eyes and for a split second she can’t hide the surprise, the flicker of sorrow before she swallows and says,

“Steve never mentioned that.”

You don’t have to ask what she’s referring to. Suddenly, it feels as though your left hand weighed a ton and the ring was tightening around your finger. Your vision of her blurs, and you blink to see that tears had began to form in your eyes. You sucked in a shaky breath,

“It was a surprise.”

Another beat of silence goes by and suddenly you have a hard time breathing. It feels as though your chest is about to rip open. As if something is choking you. The burn in your throat hurt, Your heart fucking hurt, but you needed to know. You looked her in the eyes and one word passes through your lips,

“How?”

“He fell off a train.”

Peggy Carter leaves shortly after.

* * *

You don’t know how long it’s been.

You wait.

And wait.

And you still wait.

With the ring around your finger, you wait. You wait even when your skin gets wrinkly. You wait even as your hair grows grey. You wait as one by one, your family members disappear around you. You wait until you’re sitting there in a nursing home staring out the window and watching Brooklyn flash by your eyes.

Then suddenly, you meet a young man with bright blue eyes and golden hair that looks awfully similar to the scrawny, big-hearted art partner you once had. And you can’t miss the small, shy smile on his face when he knocks on your door and quietly steps in.

And then he moves back and you see a tall, lean, well-muscled brunette with hair slicked back like he was still in the 40′s and a face that looked far too familiar to misplace and eyes so blue that you know he’s seen through too much and is still remembering too much.

He looks at you and _God is it painful_. Cause he’s in pain, and it’s obvious from the face he’s making. He looks so undeniably lost and broken, like he can’t comprehend what’s going on. He looks so torn apart at the seams and his arms are twitching at his sides like he wants to do something, but wasn't sure what.

But you pretend you don’t see him shaking, very much like that day he had left you. Very much like the last time you saw him on that platform, wearing that uniform, as you send him away. 

You pretend you don’t see the mask cracking and chipping from his expression. The glaze in his eyes as he holds back his tears.

You hold his eyes- those telling, beautiful eyes.

You smile.

“Took you long enough. Almost got a little tired waiting for you, Soldier.”


End file.
